So it's Tuesday after work. Playing football with the guys from work. I'm on jeans, no one else is. I explain that this is because I'm bred for warmer climates, but no one quite believes me. The fact I spend a lot of time sliding around (missing people, the ball etc) means that the jeans help keep me from getting continually grass burns, but the real reason is that I don't wear short under 25 degrees.
The game is going well, I haven't scored but that's no surprise, although I have accidentally elbowed one of the French guys from shopping.com in the face such that he know has a big lump next to his nose and is bleeding a bit. Unintentionally I swear, I'm just not very good and have a lot of flailing limbs.
So I'm chasing a guy I work with called Rich. Rich is a substantially better footballer than me (meaning he can pass, and tackle and score goals). Had I been a substantially better footballer I may have taken the ball of Rich. Instead I accidentally stand on the back of some part of Rich's leg. I have no idea which part, but when my foot hit the ground it didn't hit the ground flat. Unfortunately, my whole body weight was now behind it, and I drove my foot (not flat) into the ground. I suspect this is the bit where my ligiments decided that being attached to my ankle was an unrealistic state of being, and tore them selves free hoping to escape my appalling football skills.
I felt some sort of pain, rising through my body, and vaugly recall going down in a way that can best be described as collapsing in agony. I through my glasses off me (when in pain I don't like things near my face), and hit the ground with my fist, and eschewed talking with a lot of moaning and sweating and groaning. I may have sworn but am not sure I could verbalise actual words.
Everyone stood around looking appropriately concerned but not quite sure what to do. Eventually when I could talk we established that I was not in good shape. Someone brought a bag over raised my foot. After I got my breath back (agony takes a lot of effort) I asked if anyone had some water, as I need some liquid, and was sweating loads from the pain. One of the guys said that he has a coke to which I said "That's great I could do with the sugar". He then looked down and said "Um, but it's in the bag your foots on". After a careful operation to retrieve the coke, some suggested we should take my shoe off.
I undid the top bit of the laces, and the guys started taking my shoe off. The only girl playing suggested they undo all the laces properly unless they like screaming. I was even able to crack a joke when I said "Yeah, it's going to be embarrassing explaining that I broke my foot getting my shoe off, not actually playing football". Writing this now I can see why no one laughed.
I was feeling a bit guilty now of holding up the game, so two of the guys helped me off the pitch. Unfortunately they were both 6"5' so I couldn't actually get my other foot down to hop, so they had to literally carry me. They sat me down on the bench where I iced my foot with ice from a local bar, that the girl playing with us and very nicely got for me. Half an hour later, with the pain doing the opposite of subsiding I was in a very bumpy taxi ride to A&E.
A&E wasn't too bad with a fairly short wait. Although to find out what I had done my foot, the doctor poked ad various bits of the swollen lump, until I screamed and then sent me for x-rays. Fortunately the x-ray doctors were two flirty funny hot Scottish girls, which helped the pain.
I was given crutches some paracetamol and told too come back if the swelling wasn't down in a week. Currently my foot looks like this.
The purple is a delightful shade. My toes are purple and yellow, and I took a picture to put up to but quite frankly toes are minging even when not swollen and puple so I thought I would save putting you all off your lunch.